


New Rules

by jay__franco



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 05:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13000644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jay__franco/pseuds/jay__franco
Summary: In which Wonwoo orders pizza and his ex-boyfriend delivers it to him.





	New Rules

**Author's Note:**

> songfic inspired by new rules by dua lipa

Wonwoo walks into his apartment at precisely 9:56 every night. He puts his keys on the kitchen counter before opening the fridge to forage for whatever take out he had left from the weekend.

Once he’s done eating, he steps into the bathroom and gets himself ready for bed. He slips on an old white shirt and slips off his pants before hiding under his sheets. He closes his eyes and waits to fall asleep.

It’s a routine.

He’s gotten used to the routine.

It doesn’t make him sad, and it doesn’t make him feel lonely. It’s just what it was. He was all alone, living on the sixth floor of his building, making $14.25 an hour at the magazine publisher across town.

He wasn’t special. He was just a normal guy. He was okay with that. He worked from 1 o’clock in the afternoon until 9 o’clock at night from Mondays to Fridays. He was content, and he was able to provide for himself.

After all, it was just himself.

The next day, a Friday, he came home at 9:57, a minute later than usual. He checked the fridge and found that he had finished the last of his Pad Thai the night before.

Wonwoo sighed and grabbed his phone, calling the nearest pizza place for an emergency delivery. He sat on his couch and waited for the delivery boy to knock on his door.

He let out a sigh, realizing that the pizza was taking longer than usual. He grabbed himself a glass of water and sat back down on the couch just in time to hear a knock at his door.

He grabbed his wallet from his back pocket, recalling that he owed the delivery boy around twenty-something dollars for two pizzas and a delivery fee. Be figured he’d order more than he needed so he wouldn’t be stuck in this mess again.

He reached out in front of him and opened the door slowly. He looked up at the boy delivering his pizza, and his heart sank.

The delivery boy read off his order from a receipt, not bothering to even look at him. His hair was an ash blond color, grown out just enough to have a shadowy root. His voice had a certain groove to it that melted in your ears, like whenever someone tells you something you’ve just been dying to hear.

A lump formed in Wonwoo’s throat as he looked down and handed the delivery boy the money, hoping he wouldn’t notice who he was.

He didn’t know what to do, nearly dropping the pizza as he grabbed it and began to close the door. He thought everything was going to be fine after the few months that passed since everything happened. All of a sudden, his heart was beating fast again, and his blood began to boil. His breathing got heavier, and he couldn’t move like normal.

He felt like he was having a panic attack, but he knew he wasn’t. He was freaking out, but it wasn’t because he didn’t know how to handle himself at the moment, but because he didn’t know that after everything that happened and all the time he spent healing, that he would still feel pain after seeing him standing at his front door.

A foot stopped the door from closing, and he just knew he was going to lose it. He was going to drop everything on the floor, and in the heat of the moment, he would have to explain himself.

But instead, he let the door open, and he met the boy eye to eye.

“Here’s your cha--” The delivery boy said before pausing, probably as shocked as he was to see him. Now he would know, and everything was ruined. “Wonwoo? I thought you...you still live here?”

“I uh...yeah,” He replied, unable to form coherent sentences. He felt his stomach grow uneasy, and his hands become weak. “Keep it...the change. Thanks.”

He pushed the door closed and practically slammed the pizza on the counter before falling to the floor and crying in his knees.

Wonwoo thought he was fixed, but he was still broken.

___

_Don’t pick up the phone._

The next Friday, Wonwoo returns home from work at 9:55, one minute earlier than usual.

He was feeling better than he did the week before. He had extra Pad Thai in his fridge just in case anything like last week happened again.

He went on with his nightly routine and slipped into his bed, setting his phone on the night stand. He pulled the sheets over his face, wanting to erase the world around him as he slept.

Everything began moving slower as he began drifting to sleep. He felt relaxed and happy to be getting rest after a stressful week.

Then his phone rang beside him, and he answered it.

_You know he’s only calling because he’s drunk and alone._

Wonwoo found himself on the subway at 11:43 on his way downtown. He wore a thick coat to protect himself from the cold weather.

He got off his stop and made his way to a small bar across a complex of shops with apartments on the top floors. It was a familiar site.

“He was knocked out,” the bartender said. “Thought I’d call ‘ya since you had a heart by your name.”

Wonwoo didn’t know what to think. Not just about the heart, but why he dragged himself all the way across town to help him, the delivery boy that broke his heart.

_Don’t let him in, you’ll have to kick him out again._

Wonwoo knew he made stupid decisions, but he didn’t know why he decided to bring him to his apartment at 12:29 in the morning.

He set him on the couch and brewed his favorite coffee, black, no sugar, and gave it to the delivery boy to drink.

“That tastes like shit,” he said, keeping his eyes closed.

_Don’t be his friend, you know you’re gonna wake up in his bed in the morning._

“I’m trying to help you, Vernon.” He said, realizing he hadn’t said that name in a very long time.

He hadn’t thought about that person in a very long time. He didn’t even know that person anymore, yet here he was, laying piss drunk on his couch, looking exactly how he did right before he caught him in bed with some prostitute he picked up in China Town.

He looked so peaceful on his couch, despite the obvious migraine. It was almost like they were a few months back, waking up together on a Sunday morning with nothing but the sheets in between them. Vernon having to shove a week’s worth of papers the entire day while Wonwoo worked on editing articles for the next week’s issue.

Their age difference was there--Wonwoo was 26, and Vernon was 21. It wasn’t a big difference, but at times they really felt it, like when they argued about little things like Wonwoo not wanting to write his papers for him or Vernon being mad that Wonwoo wasn’t home until later in the night for some quality time. There were times when Wonwoo would get mad at Vernon for skipping lectures to bring him lunch at work, and Vernon didn’t understand why it was a big deal.

But at times, they didn’t feel the difference at all. When they went out on the weekends to see a movie, or to shop in Times Square. The times when Vernon made Wonwoo feel like a kid again when he would take him to the Disney store and buy him plush toys of his favorite characters. The times when Wonwoo would bring home a case of beers on a Friday night and they would drink the night away.

Right now, Wonwoo wishes the age difference wasn’t there. Maybe, just maybe, if Vernon was a couple of years older, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to get drunk at a bar. Or maybe, if Wonwoo was a couple of years younger, he would be stupid enough to forgive him for fucking a stranger in his bed.

But this was reality.

Vernon was stupid enough to get drunk, and Wonwoo was stupid enough to take him back to his place.

Wonwoo helped Vernon drink some more of the coffee to his disdain. He knew he liked his coffee overpowered by creamer with at least six spoonfuls of sugar. Maybe that’s why he was always such a sweet talker.

“Wonwoo,” he said quietly. “Can you turn off the lights.”

Wonwoo turned off the lights.

“I’ll be fine here,” he said hugging one of the couch pillows. “Go to bed.”

Wonwoo sighed and went to his room and stared out the window. It was nearly 3 o’clock and he was wide awake. It felt like time was frozen, but he knew that time was passing by quickly from the sound of the soft snores in the living room.

He closed his eyes and thought about everything that happened between them, everything that didn’t happen between them, and everything that could have happened between them.

“Why are you still awake?” He heard soft footsteps behind him and ignored him.

He knew it.

He felt arms wrap about him from behind, and Vernon’s warm breath against his neck that sent shivers down his spine. A lump began forming in his throat as he felt the younger bury his face in his neck.

“Baby…” he said in a husky voice. He felt himself melt in his touch. He was so broken, and he knew it.

“I’ve missed you.” Wonwoo put his hands on Vernon’s and intertwined their fingers. He was such an idiot.

“No you didn’t...you’re just drunk.” He said, but his body wouldn’t let himself reject his former lover. He let out soft whimpers while Vernon softly nibbled on his neck.

Vernon stepped back, and Wonwoo turned to him, backing into the window. Vernon stepped towards him and crashed his lips onto his. His breath reeked of beer and coffee, but his touch was exactly how it was before. Soft and sweet, but lustful and aggressive. He was like a rose. Beautiful, but if you come too close, you’ll bleed.

Vernon had broken his heart, but his touch erased everything. Wonwoo wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him closer, allowing his tongue to enter his mouth. He let Vernon control him, body and soul.

He pushed him away and took a breath before stepping to the side. Vernon looked at him with a puzzled look in his face, but it was obvious he wanted more.

Wonwoo wanted more too.

He crawled onto his bed.

Wonwoo looked at his ex-boyfriend and bit his lip

_And if you’re under him, there’s no getting over him._

**Author's Note:**

> I was planning a drabble and this happened! This is non-beta'd and also probably awful. I haven't written creatively in years, so please bare with me.


End file.
